


it's time to let you know

by likewinning



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Retail, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 08:07:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6603307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likewinning/pseuds/likewinning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's just that, maybe, this fucking guy gets to live out the dream that Jason's had since he was fourteen years old.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's time to let you know

Monday morning, Dick comes into the store with a hickey on each side of his neck, smelling like someone else's cologne and wearing a t-shirt for a band Dick's definitely never heard of. Jason takes one look at him and disappears to the back room, where he calls up Bruce and spends the next ten minutes with his hand around his dick.

After that, he's able to deal for a few hours.

 

*

 

Tuesday afternoon it's slow, and even if it wasn't, it wouldn't stop Dick from chattering on about how M's taking him to some fucking film festival tomorrow.

"Dickie," Jason tries. "You know you're going to have to read subtitles and shit, right?"

"Well, yeah," Dick says, frowning. "But I thought maybe I'd pretend I can't see that far and make M read for me."

"Ugh," Jason says. He makes himself scarce when M comes by to see Dick later. It's not like they're as grossly co-dependent as Roy and _Tim_ or anything, it's just -

It's just that, maybe, this fucking guy gets to live out the dream that Jason's had since he was fourteen years old.

 

*

 

Jason has the day off Wednesday, which is good. He shuts his phone off and spends the afternoon with Bruce, riding Bruce's dick while Bruce is on a conference call, shoving his fingers in Bruce's mouth to keep him quiet. Afterward Jason makes lunch, and they drive out to Damian's away game so they can watch preteens beat the shit out of each other on ice.

It's not until after victory dinner - Damian proudly showing off a black eye to the waitress at the vegetarian joint he picks - that Jason checks his phone and wants to die a little.

Dick's always been ridiculous when it comes to posting things on Facebook, so Jason guesses he should've figured this thing with him and M wouldn't be any different, but it's just -

He looks so -

"He looks happy," Bruce says, leaning over Jason's shoulder to look.

"Yeah," Jason says. He locks his phone, thinks about smashing it against the nightstand instead of setting it down. He keeps telling himself he can do this, that he can be cool with it, that he's with _Bruce_ now and -

He remembers Roy telling him, not too long ago, not to let Dick fuck this up. Jason knows he didn't mean _this_.

 

*

 

Friday night after work they all hit the club. Bruce is working late, but Jason makes him promise to stop by after, even if he's still in his suit and tie. "And if you are," Jason teases, "even better. Then I just get to tear it off you."

Everything's going good. Jason's a couple drinks in, eyes closed while Tim grinds back against him when Tim says, "Don't freak out, okay?"

Jason feels all the tension he just worked off come rolling back. He opens his eyes and looks straight ahead, where Dick and M are making their way to the middle of the dancefloor. "Jay," Tim says, and Jason realizes he's stopped moving altogether.

"Sorry," Jason says. He rubs Tim's skinny hips, rolls into them, but he's just not feeling it anymore. Tim squeezes his hands, tips his head back to look up at him. He's wearing purple glittery eyeshadow and the kind of gloss that's made to get all over someone's dick, and he sighs and says, "Come on, let's go get you another drink."

"Besides," Tim adds as they move back to the bar, "I've got no fucking clue where Roy is, and that's never a good sign."

Tim orders them some more shots, and Roy catches up with them and wraps his arms around Jason from behind, kissing all over his neck smelling like lime and Coronas. "Jaybird," Roy sign-songs in his ear, "you know what would make you feel lots better?"

"Dunno," Jason says. "Maybe if my boyfriend was here?"

Roy blows a raspberry at him, and Jason swats him off. "Seriously, guys, it's fine. Go dance or fuck in one of the bathrooms or whatever you do these days."

"Uh-uh," Tim says. He tips back a shot, says, "You're way too depressing to be left to your own devices. Why don't -"

" _There_ you are," Dick says, because Jason obviously looked like he needed to feel worse. Dick throws his arm around him, kisses his cheek. He smells like strawberries and M's cologne. 

"Hey, Dickie," Jason says. "Hey M."

"How's it going?" M asks. He's wearing jeans and a t-shirt that shows off all of the muscles in his upper body, and he has his arm around Dick's waist. Jason liked him before when he'd see him at Starbucks, didn't even mind him when he first started coming around, when he wasn't a _threat_ \- and yeah, Jason sure wishes he knew a threat to _what_.

"Where's Bruce?" Dick asks, scratching at his hair, and Jason waves him off a little more violently than he needs to.

"Working late," Jason says.

"Jason has a _grown-up_ boyfriend," Dick explains to M. "I think he has gray hairs and everything. Jason, does -"

"Yeah, well," Jason talks over him. He stands up, brushes past Dick. "I guess we can't _all_ meet our boyfriends in mall parking lots."

Roy gasps, looks at Tim. "Is he talking about us?"

"Can't be," Tim says, shrugging. "That would mean we're boyfriends."

Jason ignores them. Dick's frowning at him, reaching for him. "Jay, I didn't mean -"

"It's fine," Jason says. "I'm gonna go home." His gaze flickers to M's for a second, and he says, "I feel like a tool here, anyway."

"I could go," M starts, but Dick and Jason both say, "No," at the same time, and - yeah.

"Jay," Dick tries again. He steps forward, eyes all big and blue and drunk in the club lights, and Jason thinks about being sixteen, sneaking into places like this with him, desperately waiting for Dick to just _get it_ finally and kiss him, touch him, _anything_.

Dick lays his head on Jason's shoulder. "You won't stay?" he asks.

"No, Dickie," Jason says. He rubs Dick's back, sighs. "I'm tired, okay?"

Dick lifts his head back up, looks at Jason like he doesn't really believe him, but finally he steps back and nods. "Fine," he says. "But you owe me a dance."

"Sure, Dickie," he says. "You got it."

 

*

 

Jason gets a cab, but he doesn't go home. He gives the driver Bruce's address and gets ready to pay some exorbant fee, and the cab driver talks at him for what feels like fucking hours before they finally pull up at Bruce's place.

"You live here?" the guy asks, and Jason grunts something that maybe sounds like, "I wish."

Bruce isn't home yet. Jason doesn't go in, just sits out in the rain and smokes and smokes until his lungs burn with it. Roy keeps texting him, gradually more indecipherable messages that are probably supposed to cheer him up, but all Jason wants to do is yell at something, tear his teeth into something until it gives.

When they lived in the foster home, Jason couldn't stand any of the other kids. He wouldn't talk to them, wouldn't say a word to anyone but Dick. He missed his mom and their crumby, roach-infested apartment and he wasn't interested in making new friends when everything else he had kept falling apart. But Dick -

Dick got under his skin, the way he does with everyone. Won him over with smiles and cartwheels and stupidass backflips off the garage roof that landed Dick in a cast for fucking months. Jason remembers crossing off everyone else's signatures, remembers faking sick at school so he could come home and hang out with Dick instead.

It wasn't until Dick left that Jason really learned how to be on his own, and even then -

"You know," Bruce says. He sits down on the porch next to Jason, not caring that his thousand dollar suit is going to get ruined. "I did give you a key."

"Yeah," Jason says. He turns his head, leans in and breathes Bruce in - aftershave and expensive clothes, sweat and everything that Jason's stupid for. "Thought I'd wait around for you all desperate-like instead."

Bruce hums, and Jason feels it through the suit. "Desperate, huh?" he asks.

"Yeah," Jason says.

They get upstairs, the suit and tie and Jason's jeans not even making it past the first floor. Jason pushes Bruce against the wall of his bedroom, climbs up him and kisses him until his teeth hurt, until his mouth feels like a bruise. Bruce pulls back and says, "Jay," and Jason shuts him up, puts his hand over Bruce's mouth and reaches down for a dick.

"Don't," Jason says. "Just fuck me."

Bruce licks at his fingers, slicks them up with his spit and Jason slides two back and shoves them inside himself, tossing his head back when Bruce holds onto him and bites at his throat. "Need you in me," Jason whines. He curls his fingers and hits his prostate but it's not _enough_. "Need you to fuck me so hard I can't _think_."

He gasps when Bruce pushes him down to the floor none to gently, and Bruce strips his boxers the rest of the way off, gets him on his knees and shoves _in_.

"Fuck," Jason says, because Bruce isn't moving yet. He's just holding him still, one hand across his chest, and it's what Jason wants, usually, but it's not what he _needs_. "Come _on_ ," Jason says. His voice rattles and he can barely hold his eyes open. "Do it."

Bruce pulls back in, fucks in so hard Jason swears the floor shakes under them. He throws Jason down on his hands and fucks hard, fucks so fast Jason grips the too-thick carpet under him for any kind of purchase, and he can feel the fibers burning his skin, can feel Bruce breathing hard against his neck, can feel Bruce's balls slapping against him with each vicious thrust.

"Harder," Jason says and Bruce growls, fucks him right into the floor. Jason hears himself screaming and he doesn't stop, not even when his lungs hurt from it. He reaches back and scratches at Bruce's skin, his ass, his thighs, until Bruce takes hold of his wrists with one hand and holds them above his head until the stretch _hurts_.

"Need you," Jason chokes out, and when Bruce speaks, the sound of it grips at Jason like a vice.

"Jason," Bruce says, "Jay," and Jason says, "Pull out. Wanna feel you. Wanna - _Bruce_ ," he says, and Bruce pulls out, flips Jason over and comes all over his mouth, his neck. Jason laps it up, feels his whole body shuddering with how bad he needs to come.

"Jay," Bruce says, and it's quieter this time, soft as the hand Bruce runs through his hair. The moon's coming in through the window and Bruce's eyes are wide and bright, looking at him like -

Like Jason always wanted -

"Bruce," Jason says. "Do you want me?"

"I always want you, Jay," Bruce says. "You know I -"

"I need," Jason says. He squirms under him, and Bruce pinches his nipples _hard_ before he reaches down for Jason's dick.

"Tell me," he says, and Jason doesn't need to scream anymore, doesn't need anything except Bruce's _mouth_.

And Bruce knows, kisses down Jason's stomach and sucks him down, takes all of him at once and just _holds_ him there before he starts fucking his face on Jason's dick, slips his fingers back inside Jason and Jason shouts again, kicks out and sends an end table flying onto his side.

"Bruce," Jason says, and then it hits so hard he feels like he blacks out for a second, nothing but darkness in front of his eyes until Bruce is pulling off and moving back up his body, kissing him and licking his face clean.

He nudges Bruce until they're both on their sides, wraps his leg around both of Bruce's. He opens his mouth to say a million things, but he can't. Can't apologize, can't explain, can't -

"You know," Bruce starts. "If -"

"No," Jason cuts him off. He tucks himself against Bruce's chest. "I'm okay," Jason says. "I'm -"

"I know," Bruce says. He kisses Jason's forehead, and they stay like that for a long time.

 

*

 

Saturday afternoon, Jason hits up the Starbucks kiosk before his shift starts. He looks around for M, then sees he's on break and sits down next to him.

"Hey," Jason says.

M looks up from his book and nods at him. "Hi," he says. He sets his book down and waits, and Jason realizes he's supposed to say something _else_.

"I," Jason says. "I wasn't trying to be - I mean. Dick's a great guy."

"He's a moron," M says, but he smiles fondly, the way the rest of them do. Or, maybe the way only Jason usually does.

"Yeah," Jason says, and instead of hashing shit out, they spend the next fifteen minutes swapping stories about Dick, like how when he saw _Waldo_ in M's apartment he thought it was about the guy with the striped shirt.

"I guess," Jason says finally. "I guess part of me still thought it was always gonna be me."

"No accounting for taste, I guess." M winks. "If it means anything -"

"Don't," Jason says. He lets out a breath. "I'm good now."

"Are you?" M asks. He stands up, ties his apron back on.

"No," Jason says. "But I'm gonna be."

M smiles at him, sends him back to the store with free coffees for him and Dick and one of those stupid cake pop things that Dick loves so much. Dick jumps on him as soon as he gets there, snags his drink and almost spills it on Jason when he decides Jason has to give him a piggyback ride right now.

"I missed you last night," Dick tells him. "Roy got into the jaeger again and jumped up on the bar."

"Jesus," Jason says. "You get pictures?"

"Better," Dick says, and Jason can tell he's grinning. "Video."

They fuck around half their shift watching videos Dick took of Roy being a drunk asshole, and Dick doesn't ask Jason about last night, or anything, and Jason knows he probably never will - just like he knows they're going to be okay.


End file.
